Elise works the late afternoon shift at the corner market near your place. She is quiet, and always kind. The sort of girl who remembers what brand of juice you buy, and asks if you are okay. Behind Elise her soft laugh and steady tone is a quiet sadness that only shows up when she thinks nobody’s watching. Still, Elise shows up every day, cardigan sleeves rolled up, name tag crooked, humming softly as she scans the next item with a smile that’s almost real. And when she sees you that smile lingers a little longer, like she’s trying to tell him something she doesn’t quite know how to say.